Heir to the Heathen Throne
by otahotian
Summary: Anime; Japanese animated productions, usually featuring hand-drawn or computer animation. Animé; orange, resinous, sticky gum produced by Jatobá, tree common to the Caribbean, Central and South America. Animé; india-rock band, created in 1999. Also name of the second chapter of this Sabriel fanfiction- coffee-shop cliché for everyone who is not tired of those, yet.
1. Nirvána

**_Hi. Another day, another challenge; I am making a promise of one chapter per week, hopefully more often. Chapters are short, uneventful, more of a characters study than a novel. _**

**_It's a Sabriel story, my guilty pleasure, and also the first slash fiction that is solely mine and not a mere interpretation of what my ex-profile-sister had on her mind. _**

**_If you have any comment, question, criticism concerning either the store, spelling, grammar or even my adopted writing style, don't hesitate to let me know. You can use reviews, private messages, psi-contacting (telepathy) or pigeon post to do so._**

**Name: _Heir to the Heathen Throne_**

**Chapter: _Nirvána__  
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**Place/setting: _Random university town_**

**Characters: _Gabriel, Castiel, Balthazar_**

**Mood: _Easy, Enigmatic, Energetic_**

**Warnings: _Strong language (for me, at least)__  
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**Author listening to: _Nothing, but I'm going to go for _Lemuria_ by _Therion**

_**Enjoy, if possible.**_

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><p><em>Nirvána<em>_; imperturbable stillness of mind after the fires of desire, aversion, and delusion have been finally extinguished._

_Nirvana; __name of three respective bands, American, Brittish and Swedish._

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><p>Gabriel liked to think it was a good name for a sweetshop; it suggested calmness, bliss and had that slight taste of foreign that he knew students just loved. Good, as well, since students made about seventy percent of his customers.<p>

The radio wasn't playing Nirvana the moment he unlocked the door to the place. The radio was playing some weird ass mantra, and as soothing as those could be, if he was ever forced to repeat _Oh mani padme hum_ for three hundred times, he might just get loony. But the mantra helped him realize one thing in exactly two seconds it took him to raise his eyes from where he had had them lowered while unlocking the door; Castiel was over.

"Oh by _gods_, will you stop breaking in?" he called into the shop, looking over the number of tables, chairs upside down on them, trying to see where his weird ass cousin was at the moment. He heard the sound of a long exhale and then Castiel's head appeared from behind the counter, the teen straightening up and stretching all of his muscles along the way.

"I didn't break in, the backdoor is unlocked." Castiel said evenly, running his hand trough his hair, darkened even more than usual by sweat. It made Gabriel snort and cross the room, with one relieved click turning the music off.

"Yeah. _Now_ it is. Who taught you how to pick locks? I'm gonna send that fucker to Valhalla prematurely." He wasn't really bothered by Castiel's presence, the teen using Gabriel's shop as some kind of safe haven, more so after his brother started working there as a waiter. On the good days, Gabriel thought he might just have to strangle the two of them, their presence was overwhelming and exactly what he always expected from family, yet never got from his own set of brothers. On the bad days, he was half-tempted to accept Castiel's offer of massage and getting high.

"Your mother, Gabriel." Castiel followed him with his gaze, he was sure of it; could feel the eyes on the back of his neck even as he put the chairs one-by-one from the tables to the floor.

"I didn't know you were into necromancy, too." was Gabriel's smart reply and he would love to get it printed and hung above his bed. "You could help me, you know? Since you already spend more time in here than you do at home."

He raised his eyes to see Castiel give him a contemplative look and then shake his head, "No, I do not think so." the male said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Gabriel huffed and went on silently until he had the shop prepared for opening; it was half past six and he still had ten more minutes before he would leave to the kitchen to warm up the sweets for breakfast and start on a new batch. However, he needed Balthazar over by that time, since he had honest to gods no idea how to prepare coffee with the silly coffee makers.

"Where's that asshat of your brother anyway?" he huffed towards Castiel, moving to lean against the counter now that the dark-haired teen was busy moving around the shop and lighting up aroma candles.

"What's the time?" Castiel asked and Gabriel peered up at the clock above the counter- a gift from Lucifer, who thought Winnie the Pooh was a decent idea of decoration, that dick. "Twenty-five to seven." He breathed in the air and caught a hint of scent from the candles, heavy and enticing. It was strangely familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Santal wood." he heard Castiel say and raised his eyebrows, but the male obviously wasn't done yet, "It's aphrodisiakum. Cleans the air. Calms people down. And Balthazar is probably still asleep."

Gabriel snickered, "Aphrodisiakum? Seriously? You know this is a coffee shop, rig- wait, what do you mean 'still asleep'?" he pushed away from the counter, started pacing the room. "I'm gonna castrate the fuc-"

He was interrupted by the front door opening and in danced said male, whistling off-tune and ridiculously cheerful, "Who offended your cakes this time?"

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, "Good morning to you too." he greeted him, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over his chest, stupidly annoyed. But he had been afraid Balthazar would come in late and the coffee wouldn't be ready for the first customers and then-

"You're being the mean boss today?" Balthazar folded his jacket over one of the chairs, by a corner table that they usually reserved for family and friends over, unless there was too many people in.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much." Castiel piped in, blowing off the long match he had used to light up his candles, "He is simply worried his coffee-drinking sweetheart would leave if there was no coffee to be drunk."

Gabriel straightened up so fast his neck stung, "_Oi_!" he glared at them both, hoping it would be enough to get the siblings to shut up and stop poking fun of him.

It didn't work quite the way he had hoped for; but they did shut their mouths and Balthazar moved around the counter to start on the coffee, while Castiel simply raised his hands, palms-up, in a gesture of surrender.

The peace and silence didn't last long and Gabriel knew he should have expected that. All the while, the moment he saw Castiel open his mouth and take in a deep breath, he suddenly wished he had a piece of pie in his hand to stuff his mouth shut. "I don't think he would stop coming in, even if you didn't serve the coffee." And if Gabriel expected his cousin to start with the usual cliché of 'he comes in to see you', he was sadly mistaken; "It's the only place 'round the campus that doesn't sell drugs and whores."

"Maybe I should start selling drugs and whores." Gabriel repeated sulkily, reaching to take the mug of steaming coffee that Balthazar prepared for him. "Maybe then he wouldn't sit in a sweet shop, drinking black coffee."

Gabriel just caught the sound of the two siblings laughing in unison, weirdly in harmony, but that might just be the _Sandal wood_ or whatever playing hockey with his mind. He turned around and fled into his safe kitchen, but not fast enough to miss Balthazar's last retort;

"Maybe we should hire Ruby, then. From what I heard she's the biggest whore since Mary Magdalene."

Gabriel felt the tip of his ears heat up and he kicked the door to the kitchen shut, turning his laptop on to play his own music; gossiping just never felt right to him.

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><p>"<em>You sure 'bout that? I mean.. you've got school 'n stuff, don't wanna get in the way, dude."<em>

"-for the fifth time, Dean, it's cool, alright? It's nice to get you to myself for few days. With_out_ dad."

"_Yeah, yeah, I know. Dad's got some stuff to do in Oregon, or somethin', so it's gonna be just us."_

"Great. I'll see if I can get you a room yeah?"

"_Motel's always an option, chill."_

"- fine. When are you going to get here?"

"_Friday. Evening, probably. I'll call you when I know more, yeah?"_


	2. Animé

**_Well, here comes the second part. Hope you liked the starting and will like the continued parts as well._**

**Name: _Heir to the Heathen Throne_**

**Chapter: _Animé__  
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**Place/setting: _Coffee shop_**

**Characters: _Gabriel, Castiel, Balthazar, Sam, Various unknown persons_**

**Mood: ****_Curious, _****_Hesitant, Content_**

**Warnings: _Pining, Pop-culture references__  
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**Author listening to: _Author's other guilty pleasure- anything and everything by glorious _Eluveitie**

**_Enjoy the chapter :)_**

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><p><em>Anime; Japanese animated productions, usually featuring hand-drawn or computer animation.<em>

_Anim__é; __orange, resinous, sticky gum produced by Jatob__á, tree common to the Caribbean, Central and South America._

_Animé; __india-rock band, created in 1999._

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><p>Gabriel had an episode of <em>Death Note<em> playing on his laptop as he went trough the routine of heating up pies, cakes, pastries and other sweets when requested by the customers. He had the dough prepared for making a fresh ones, too, but was too caught up in arranging the cherry on top of an ice-cream sundea. It had to be perfect, he wanted to go present it personally to the guest who had ordered it, screw that he had no idea who it was.

He narrowed his eyes and shifted the fruit slightly to the left, adding a half-teaspoon of melted chocolate over it. There, that was good. He paused the current episode and arranged the bowl onto a plate with glass of slightly warm water, taking a deep breath.

He stepped out of the safety of his kitchen, hoping he didn't have flour or dough or marmalade anywhere over himself. Balthazar was nice enough to point the elderly couple to him and he strode confident towards them, but not before searching for a familiar face in the shop. He found the face, of course. Together with the body that belonged to it, long enough to rival his Sunday dinners with family.

He would have stumbled over his own feet had the male, to whom both said face and said body belonged, looked up at the moment, but he didn't. Of course. He was just like every other day leaned over a thick book that was resting on the edge of the table, backpack next to him on the floor, safely tucked close to touch the man's ankle all the time, and in front of him a mug of black, bitter coffee.

Gabriel set the sundae in front of the couple and leaned down to light up their candle, giving them both a smile for their thanks. He found himself envious of the harmony between them; as rare as he knew that was, the idea of growing old with someone without the fear of showing who he was made him melt and sigh like a middle-aged woman over Orlando Bloom.

"He looks like male version of Rory Gilmore." Balthazar noted as soon as Gabriel joined him by the counter, earning himself a death glare when the sentence left his mouth. He didn't seem to mind that much, no matter how hard Gabriel tried to kill him with his look; continuing on with creating some silly pictures with cream into the surface of the coffee.

"Didn't know you watched the Gilmore Girls." Gabriel said bitingly when he couldn't think of anything smart to say. He watched as the shop door opened and in went a group of young people; his guess was on students, which meant they would want the menu to help them decide that they wanted normal coffee and pancakes anyway.

"Name one person who never watched the Gilmore Girls." he heard Balthazar say with a grin, that asshat, and Gabriel picked up three of the leather-bound menus, bringing them to the round table in the middle of the room where said students decided to sit.

"_Michael_!" Gabriel called over his shoulder towards Balthazar, chuckling softly when one of the students looked up at him with a questioning look on his face. "Sorry, kiddo." he said towards the student, laying one of the menus straight in front of him; blond, laughing blue eyes and small dimples in his cheeks. "So your name is Michael? I am Gabriel, I will get you one coffee on the shop, since we archangels need to stick together." he said with a wink and walked off, followed by a burst of conspiratorial laughter from the group.

When he returned to the counter, Balthazar had three coffees ready, so Gabriel made one more trip around the tables to get them to their rightful owners. "I don't get why stuff like that works on _everyone_, but Rory over there.." he complained, leaning against the counter next to his kind-of-cousin, dipping his finger into the cream and licking it off.

"Maybe you need to serenade him." Balthazar batted his finger away, as if that would ever stop Gabriel from stealing sweets.

"You know very well that I can't sing." Gabriel rolled his eyes, "I like to, of course. 'Cause who doesn't, right? But the quality's deplorable." He hopped up to sit on the counter and watched his favourite customer trough the mirror behind the counter; the counter looked like a bar, he got told. But as he didn't serve alcohol, only sometimes in some of the sweets, it didn't worry him that much.

The male version of Rory Gilmore straightened up right on time, pushing his empty coffee mug away from him exactly at half past nine; it was a simple gesture, but Gabriel knew him well enough already and was by his table in a beat, grinning expectantly as he waited for the student to speak up.

"Oh, hey. Yeah.." was the first thing the male said from the moment he had walked into the sweetshop, Gabriel knew it, so that explained his low and throaty voice. None the less, Gabriel found himself speechless and staring at his mouth for long seconds, only the few low syllables enough to send a tremor trough his spine.

Oh wait, no, he had said 'coffee, black' in a curt, matter-of-fact voice when he had walked in. Balthazar always complained about the lack of 'good morning' or 'please' or 'thank you', but Gabriel knew him well enough to know that he would complain about anything.

A clearing of throat had him back in the present and he muttered an embarrassed apology for having spaced out. Minding that the customer obviously preferred gestures and silence to words, he just handed the bill over without a sound.

And holly shit, the male was sitting almost as tall as Gabriel was standing now that he was straightened, handing the money to him. He was already used to the exchange, knowing that 'Rory' was not about to want the change back, but all the while he reached for his wallet to give it to him. A raised palm stopped him and he gave the man a smile, small 'thank you' slipping past his lips.

After that he could only watch as his customer gathered his things and walked out, long strides graceful and fast. He didn't look back and Gabriel could only mourn the loss of his presence.

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><p>"-or the last time, Dean! <em>Don't<em> call me when I'm having a seminar!"

"_Hey, baby bro. Hardly my fault you didn't turn sounds off."_

"You're not blaming this on me. What on Earth did you want?"

"_Just ask you how you're doin'. -Nah. Kidding, sorry, Sammy."_

"Ha. Funny as always, Dean. And don't call me that."

"_Okay, okay, chill. Jeez. Dad called, I might be stayin' bit longer than expected. You don't mind, right?"_

"Of course not. I'll be happy to have you here.."

"_Cool. Awesome. Get your ass to the motel, then. We're going out to get pie."_


End file.
